Reach Heaven Via Feng Shui Engineering, Drug Trade And Tax Evasion

When Qian Shanyi woke up, her soul still buzzed, and her ribs ached a bit from yesterday’s exertion, but her head felt as clear as ever. She stretched lazily in her hammock, opening her eyes with a wide yawn. Yesterday was…

Can I even call it yesterday?

Three clocks, three time streams, all running at different rates. Outside, within Yonghao’s world fragment, and her own. In the world outside, it should have been just around midnight, twenty four hours since they stole the paleworm queens. For her body, it was two and a half days, one here, one on the outside, and half inside the world fragment, dealing with Linghui Mei and taking a nap.

Language wasn’t designed to twist itself around these problems.

Out of those, she could only remember the last half. The sleep helped a bit - she had brief flashes of memories from the days lost, but there was no way to recover what was no longer there. A vision of some whistle, and some kid who wasn’t in her notes. Hopefully nothing too important.

Linghui Mei was curled up in the hammock above her, breathing light and quiet. She must have transformed in her sleep - there was a pair of fox ears on top of her head, and her twin tails were out. One was curled up around her eyes, the end of the other chewed idly in her mouth, with a bit of drool on the fur.

Best let her sleep.

Qian Shanyi quietly slipped out of the hammock, put on her sandals, and slowly got out of the hut, making sure the beams did not fall away and make noise. She checked the time: nine hours of sleep.

She agreed with Yonghao to meet up after eight, but he must have decided to let her sleep in rather than wake her. Good of him, overall. She picked up one of her books on farming and settled down next to the baths, waiting for him to come back.

It took him just over an hour - thirteen minutes on the outside. She motioned for him to stay quiet, putting her book away. “How was the watch so far?” she asked, once he descended down on the ground next to her.

“Uneventful, thankfully,” he said, with a bit of a yawn of his own.

“I’ll switch up with you in the middle of the night, for a couple hours, let you sleep in here,” she said, getting up. It was time to make breakfast. “Just a couple more loose ends to tie up, and then we will probably be in the clear at least until the morning.”

Wang Yonghao shifted around uncomfortably. “You really think the heavens will do something new so soon?”

Qian Shanyi shook her head. “It’s not about that - it’s about the spirit hunters catching on to our deception. No lie is ever perfect, but there are many loopholes left in what I did. The biggest one is that nobody actually escaped through the sewers. Once they meticulously check every exit, they would never find any signs that someone left the system - no hatches that were opened, no trails, no smells. This would take time, and with any luck, by then too many things would have happened for them to be sure - but there is a chance they would come back, start to suspect Mei hid in the tavern somewhere after all. A dangerous link back to us.”

Wang Yonghao groaned, rubbing his face in despair.

Qian Shanyi smiled at him. “It’s not a big problem. I already have some ideas about how we can deal with it. But first, tell me in detail about what happened yesterday. I need a more complete picture than what was in my notes.”

They spoke while she cooked them a pair of simple rice bowls, too lazy to make anything more substantial, and a plan slowly started to come together in her mind. She got some paper out, drawing a crude map of the town from memory, guessing at the speeds and distances.

They were interrupted by the sound of a falling wooden beam. Linghui Mei stepped out of the hut, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. Her tails were curled up behind her, reaching up from below the hem of her robes. There was still some wariness in her eyes, but she finally seemed calm, not ready to bolt at the first crack of thunder.

“You look a lot better today,” Qian Shanyi complimented. “Sleep well?”

Linghui Mei nodded silently, her ears twitching a bit. The way the orange fur on them turned smoothly into the black hair on her head looked quite cute. Like a little plush toy.

“Rabbit for breakfast?” Qian Shanyi asked, and once Linghui Mei nodded again, she headed over to the chiclotron to get some meat out. They were slowly running out, faster now that they had three mouths to feed - but the upcoming duel should give her a great excuse to stock up on food. “We’ve been discussing how to get the spirit hunter completely off your trail. My idea is to pretend you were hiding in the sewers, and then exited back through our tavern, once everyone had left. If you lay a trail to the river, where Yonghao will pick you up, we could tie that thread off cleanly, even if they come looking.”

She expected the kitsune to tense, hearing about needing to go outside, where the spirit hunters might catch her - but surprisingly, she seemed to relax further instead.

Interesting.

She intended this proposal to double as a potential escape hatch - if Linghui Mei truly wanted to flee, she could simply not meet up with Wang Yonghao, and vanish into the night. After studying her own soul, she was much less concerned about letting her go free than before. Perhaps the Heavens would kill her for knowing too much - but that would be her choice. Was that what she wanted after all? Or was she similar to Qian Shanyi in spirit, and enjoyed it when someone else thought about problems that could fuck them all over?

“That’s not going to work,” Linghui Mei said quietly, interrupting Qian Shanyi’s ruminations. “The dog will smell Yonghao’s trail. They’ll know you were involved.”

“A rain had started, while we were here -” Qian Shanyi started.

“That will make things worse,” Linghui Mei interrupted her again, shaking her head. “Rain brings out the scents better.”

“Really?” Qian Shanyi angled her head in interest, bringing the meat back to the kitchens. “Why?”

“How should I know why? It just does,” Linghui Mei grumbled, sitting down on the ground next to the baths, tails curling around her legs like a blanket. “Only heavy rain pushes them down a bit. Still brings them out when it stops.”

“So even if I wash all the sweat, wear new clothes, a dog could still follow me?” Wang Yonghao asked.

“It’s not just about your sweat,” Linghui Mei said, gesturing to the ground. “The earth smells differently when someone steps on it. Moss and grass come through stronger, dust is airier. Even if you smelled like nothing, I’d have known you passed through.”

Hearing her speak, Qian Shanyi opened the fire node in the kitchen, and put half of the meat she brought out next to it, to warm up. The other half she kept cold, serving it up on a wide plate.

“What if I walk high in the air?” Wang Yonghao continued.

Linghui Mei frowned. “Show me.”

Qian Shanyi finished up her preparations while Wang Yonghao and Linghui Mei were trying things out. It felt good to not need to direct things for once. “Breakfast ready, Mei!” she called out, and the kitsune broke off from Wang Yonghao, eagerly approaching Qian Shanyi, licking her lips at the sight of all that rabbit meat.

Qian Shanyi had to slap her hands away when she went for the plate. “Not so fast!” she said, handing Linghui Mei a long cut of cloth. “Put this on first.”

Linghui Mei gave her a puzzled look. “It goes over your eyes,” Qian Shanyi clarified. “If your sense of smell is so good, focusing on it in cooking only makes sense. I have all sorts of meats here - hot, cold, different cuts, with and without salt - and I want to see which ones you’d like more. Cutting off vision makes other senses a bit sharper, so it will be good for our first proper test -”

“Just give me the plate.”

“No,” Qian Shanyi said, pulling it further out of Linghui Mei’s reach. “I am the chef here. Put the blindfold on, we are experimenting with taste.”

Linghui Mei glared at her, tails whipping angrily behind her. Qian Shanyi held her gaze with a small smile. Finally, Linghui Mei sighed in frustration, and tied the blindfold around her eyes.

“Excellent,” Qian Shanyi grinned, picking up a piece of rabbit with her chopsticks, “now say ‘aaaah’...”

“I am not letting you feed me like a damn child!” Linghui Mei burst out, an angry blush spreading across her cheeks. She reached out towards Qian Shanyi’s hand. “Give me the chopsticks!”

“Oh fine,” Qian Shanyi said, pouting. “Here you go.”

She made Linghui Mei eat slowly, so that she could comment on the taste and the texture. The kitsune wasn’t terribly good at giving feedback, clearly unused to focusing on the food as a thing in itself, separate from a mere judgment of wherever it was worth eating. It didn’t help that she spoke so much more about the smells, beyond what Qian Shanyi’s nose could actually distinguish - but she still got plenty of notes out of it. Enough to start working on the future dishes, in any case.

“Alright,” Qian Shanyi said, clapping her hands once they were finished. “Breakfast over - time for crimes. Let’s make some plans.”

While Qian Shanyi kept watch in their room, Wang Yonghao went out into the gardens. Opening the window, he snuck out, walked around the garden in no particular pattern, and then stashed Linghui Mei’s old maid clothes in a distant corner, hidden behind a bush. Then he headed to the sewage access room, wedging the door and the window closed. It was already midnight, and the tavern was deserted - but best not to take any risks.

Opening his inner world, he let Linghui Mei out. The kitsune was like a coiled spring, all stress and strain. She refused Qian Shanyi’s offer of the rope harness, and he had to carry her like a princess, a bag with Shanyi’s clothes slung over her shoulder.

The memory of her slashing half his face open with her claws was still fresh in his mind, and he did his best to angle his head away without being too obvious. He didn’t think it worked, on either count.

Once they were out, she leapt out of his arms, looking around the room. She had transformed back in his inner world, changing her appearance. Her figure was Qian Shanyi’s, to fill out the dress she brought along, and her robes sat oddly on her. The face was new, unfamiliar.

The same wary look in her eyes as before.

The hatch had been closed already, and Linghui Mei yanked it open, gagging at the smell. “Heavens help me…” she whispered, taking the bag off her shoulder.

“Are you going to be alright?”

She eyed him carefully, just on the edge of paranoia. Whatever happened between her and Qian Shanyi to build a degree of trust didn’t seem to extend to him. “Not the worst thing I ever had to do.”

He turned around, knowing what was coming. They didn’t want his scent on her new clothes, so she had to change into her “stolen” dress here, after he already brought her out. “You know, you don’t have to do that,” he said over his own shoulder. “Go in there. There’d already be a scent trail from this room - if it’s too bad with your nose…”

Rustle of cloth, as she took her robes off. “No,” a gagged response. Quiet slaps of naked skin on rusted rungs of a steel ladder. “It has to be perfect. Your wife was right.”

“She isn’t my wife.”

No response, then some splashing of the waters. More gagging. Then finally, wet steps on the wooden floor, rustle of cloth. Soft whine of metal as the hatch closed.

Wang Yonghao turned around, and saw Linghui Mei wiping her hands and feet on the delicate cultivator robes she wore before, grimacing in disgust. Her new dress was purple, with patterns of white, like the starry night. She tossed the old robes to him, and he stepped aside, not wanting to touch the filth, opening his inner world where he stood. The robes fell through, and he tossed the bag after them.

“Well? Go,” Linghui Mei said, gesturing to the door.

Wang Yonghao sighed, and unblocked the door, heading out. His part was the easy one, in any case.

He hoped Linghui Mei was going to be alright.

Linghui Mei stalked through Glaze Ridge, hurrying towards the river. She avoided long thoroughfares, sticking close to the buildings. It was midnight, and rain was falling hard, with nobody else on the streets - perhaps she could pass for a housewife hurrying home.

Hurrying home from where?

Just being here, out on the streets at this hour, meant that the spirit hunters would surely question her if they crossed paths. New form meant new scent, and she had scrubbed herself thoroughly in their bath, until the musk of jiuweihu, of her transformation was completely gone - but she couldn’t conceal the disgusting scent of the sewers on her hands. It was a bit of a gamble, to either leave the trail unanchored or to risk a confrontation on the street - but she chose the latter.

If the spirit hunters caught on to her trail, she would have no choice but to run. Better to risk it to lay a perfect diversion for tomorrow.

She had no shoes to wear, and so she walked with naked feet over the road, hurrying over the cobblestones and through muddy side streets, sweeping a leg behind herself to wipe the footprints off. Not her first time.

The heavy rain had soaked her, and she shivered in the wind. Qian Shanyi offered her a leather coat, but she declined. Too much smell on it. She was starting to regret it.

At least it also washed some of that sharp, tangy scent of the sewers away. She rubbed her hands together to help it. It was not going to vanish completely without some soap, or a transformation - but that would bring out her musk, which was far more dangerous. Her feet were already more or less clean from the puddles on the ground.

A dog barked three houses away, and her blood froze in her veins. She continued on her way, neither speeding up nor slowing down. Was it their dog? It had to be, but there was still a chance they didn’t see her, especially with the darkness and the rain. It pushed the scent of the city down, of smoke and sweat and fruit and fresh rice.

She felt blind, exposed out here, but the dog would be as well. It would have to be right on her trail to catch her scent, and even then…

Qian Shanyi told her that as soon as they were out of this “world fragment”, the Heavens might turn their wrathful eyes towards her. Because she was connected to the fate of Wang Yonghao, because she knew too much. She didn’t believe it, but after everything that happened, perhaps she had to.

The dog barked again, the same distance away. Directly behind her, now.

No, no, no…

Linghui Mei felt rage and terror mix in her eyes, tears beginning to well up.

Already?!

She thought about running away from the two strange cultivators - this was a perfect opportunity, after all - but now she regretted even leaving their world fragment. Heavens smite them, why did she let herself be convinced? So what if the spirit hunters would go back to the tavern?

She couldn’t go back to the chase. Not this soon.

The river was so close. She could already see the bridge. Should she run?

She didn’t run. It would look suspicious.

She heard the dog bark behind her just as she turned onto a narrow street going alongside the river. So much closer. She only had moments now, for all that she still didn’t hear the spirit hunters chasing after.

There was some kind of pole hanging over the street, perhaps from a sign that was no longer there, and she jumped off the wall, grabbed it, and swung into the river, aiming for a tall, vertical bollard next to the bridge. An entire cleaned tree trunk, standing tall in the water, secured down by a scaffold. Something to tie boats to, perhaps.

Her feet were silent as she landed on the top, though she slipped on the mossy bollard, soaked in the rain. She grabbed onto it at the last moment, and slid down into the water, slipping in slowly, making no noise. Diving deep, she swam upriver, towards the bridge, transforming her fingers into claws on the way. The current was strong, the water freezing cold. Her heart hammered in her ears, counting seconds, wondering when she would finally feel an arrow pierce through her back.

There was no arrow. She reached the bridge and hid beneath it, pulling herself close to the wall so that the passing water would not burble around her body. Her claws were wedged in a crack between two stones, barely wide enough, fingers going numb. She could slip at any moment.

She quieted her breathing and waited. Above her, she heard footsteps, a dog sniffing around on the street. Two voices, quiet.

“I thought I saw a shadow. Jian smelled something.”

“The kitsune?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Lost the trail?”

“Seems so.”

“Let me give him the toy.”

A whistle, then quiet. Linghui Mei waited in tense agony. The dog was, after all, just a dog. It could only follow the trail in two dimensions, and she didn’t touch the railing of the riverbank. When the scent of the sewers went upwards - it should have gotten confused, unable to tell the handlers what it sensed.

Should have. They couldn’t see her from where they were. Her breathing seemed deafening to her ears, the quiet burble of the current even more so, but up above, they surely couldn’t hear it. The drum of rain on the water concealed all noise.

“No, nothing. Come on, boy, let’s go. We have to hurry.”

The steps receded, fading into the silence of the night. She waited, her muscles starting to lock up in the freezing waters. Counting in her mind, until they would be truly gone.

She let go of the wall and dived, letting the current carry her away from the bridge, and stayed underwater until her lungs burned so much she thought she would pass out. She had to fight her body to keep her breathing quiet once she surfaced.

The river had carried her around a bend, the bridge no longer in sight. As she got her bearings, she didn’t hear the dog bark again.

She got away.

She was too exhausted to laugh. She laid back, letting the current carry her downstream, closing her eyes. The rain felt warm on her face, after that ice-cold river water.

She got away.

Her thoughts turned back to the other two cultivators. She could get out of the river, flee them entirely. She spent a good decade with the spirit hunters showing neither hide nor tail around her. They wouldn’t find her again.

The town around her started to turn to farms, and then to a forest. There was a turn of the river she was waiting for, where Wang Yonghao was supposed to meet her. If she left before then, they wouldn’t know where to even begin to look for her.

They are just cultivators.

If they were just cultivators, I would have already been dead.

As she thought about it, she started to tire, her eyelids growing heavier. The water was too cold. She tried to swim, to warm herself up, but her limbs were slow, unresponsive. She already spent too long in the water. Her movement turned her over, and for a moment, her head dipped below the water. She choked, struggling back to the surface.

No!

She tried to move faster, but her muscles weren’t working, frozen stiff. Transformation was coming on slower, too, her blood refusing to move.

The current got stronger here. Her head dipped under the water again, and this time, she didn’t have the strength to reach the surface. Her consciousness started to fade.

At least the spirit hunters could not catch me… Didn’t… Give them satisfaction…

Suddenly, some force seized her hand, and she breached the surface, coming face to face with Wang Yonghao. She coughed up water on his robes. He swore, and opened his world fragment, pulling her inside. Her eyes burned at the light, searing after midnight outside.

The last thing she remembered before she lost consciousness was the warmth of a bath flooding into her limbs.

Qian Shanyi turned over another page of her book about farming. She was lounging on their bed in the tavern, a cup of warm tea in one hand, a glass bottle full of glowing powder for light, cuddled up in a nice, fluffy blanket. If she tried, she could almost imagine she was back home, back before she became a cultivator, reading novels well past her bedtime.

She heard a key turn in the door, and Wang Yonghao entered, dripping water all over the floor. How did he manage to get so wet? He had a leather coat against the rain.

“Stressful night?” she asked, putting her book down on the windowsill. ”I didn’t think you’d decide to go for a swim. Was the water good, at least?”